Made for Each Other

 

What is more important? The spirit put into me by God's hand in creation or the body with which He surrounded it in specific intent? Surely they were meant to live together, one  not necessarily superior to the other except as pertains to longevity. The spirit lives both before and will live after the body but, while they cohabit, they can both be used for the glory of God, since He both conceived of and created them both. Reaching for God and finding Him glorifies what He put in the spirit. Using the body in charity, in communion, in profitable physical labor and in giving and receiving love fulfills what it was made for.  

The body, contrary to what so many religions teach, is neither corrupt nor despicable unless it is used for a corrupt purpose. A life of destruction will destroy it. A life of looking for God, of searching out the connection between body and spirit, elevates both of them and God. Things to seek out - 

To see and be seen:

Comprehend that the world is the vehicle we are given as a mirror for us to find God at whom I cannot directly gaze but who in reflection will find my own face.

To hear and be heard:

Harmonica and violin, birdsong and baby's cry, the sigh of final breath and triumphant hallelujah. The sound of my own careful breath against velvet silence.

To taste and be tasted:

My tongue on sharp lemons and plump chocolates. A lover's tongue on my own salt and musk. The holiness of blessed bread and sacred wine. God with us.

Body and spirit. While the body lives, they can't be separated. At the end, though, God peels them carefully apart, leaving only what is most like Him, spirit made moreso by how the body has increased it while it lived. 

See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.

Holy body, holy spirit.

Made for each other.

Images: Spirit of Man - Christ, shutterstock

Not Just the Two of Us

 

"The exchange of love is illegitimate if consent on both sides does not come from that central point in the soul where YES can only be eternal. - Simone Weil

A friend of mine makes bets at weddings regarding how long the marriage he is witnessing will last. It's harsh of course, but chilling and pragmatic also. After all, we all know the statistics. Half of marriages end in divorce. My own history bears that out. I've been married twice. One ended in divorce and the other survived until death.

The one that didn't last was not founded on love of any kind, but on appearance and convenience. It never had a real chance to succeed. The second was founded on love, but not the kind Weil was talking about. The love was carnal, not eternal. At least not at first. The marriage managed to last because part way through, we adopted a new focus. Part way through, we decided to put God front and center - to follow Him and trust Him to bring us together in common purpose and He did. I daresay that marriage, too, would have ended in divorce otherwise.

It's no wonder that Weil's quote hits home. There's only one way to have a love founded on the eternal because God is the onlly eternal entity to whom we have regular access. 

The sad truth is that two humans have a hard job of it to love one another properly because, well, they're human. Weak sometimes. Fallible often. Well meaning, perhaps, but hurtful anyway. We are not to be totally depended on. Ever. 

Two people holding hands and walking into the sunset or staring into one another's eyes with love and longing are little equipped by one another's weakness to manage a satisfying, long-lasting union. But two people side by side following God are. Now that's a marriage that can last. A marriage, or a friendship, or a partnership of any kind can last only if it is supported by the eternal.

Image: Pinterest

Who Wants to Hear the Truth, Anyway?

 

I'm re-reading Atlas Shrugged, a 1000+ page novel written by philosopher Ayn Rand in 1957. It's a startling book I first read during my first year of college in 1970 and it changed my way of looking at the world and the way we live in it. Rand describes what fear and disconnection do to human beings and ultimately their society, destroying both their joy of achievement and their respect for morality. She's been generally despised for unveiling this world and how it operates but I didn't realize until now, more than 50 years later, that I've been living in the world she predicted the whole time.

Rand describes a world in which neither innovation for ambition has value, where a person's ability to think clearly, take responsibility, and act on those thoughts has no place, but where following orders, even questionable ones, is the only way forward. Around 1977, I had a job as a purchasing agent in a small plastics company near OHare airport and I had an idea to combine and change purchasing patterns to save money and enhance reliability. My boss, the owner's plodding son, told me I was not paid to think, but was paid to do as I was told. He used Rand's exact language and just like Rand's characters did, I quit that job.

Rand also describes a world in which the appearance of a thing is more important than the fact of it and that the players in the resulting schemes collude to cover up injustice. I remember when, as Vice President of a small steel company in the 1980s, I was told to obtain a price increase from our best customer when the conditions contractually allowing that increase, an increase in the price of steel, had not been met. I was expected to take a falsified invoice to the customer and I refused to do it. My employer was upset, of course, but not because I questioned their methods. Their only demand was whether I was declaring myself better or more virtuous than they. They never considered whether what they were asking could be honorably done (it couldn't). They just wanted to know if it was presentable. In the end, after my refusal, someone else did the deed and I learned that all involved on both sides of the table were aware of the subterfuge and knew the supposed negotiations to be a false mockery, a cooperation of farce. I quit that job, too.

Rand further describes a world where government regulations strangle creativity and productivity and in which people work ever harder and realize less benefit for either producer or consumer, leading to the breakdown of supply systems and in the end, the society they are supposed to support. Last week's New Yorker profiled a Kentucky farmer stymied by government controls on crop prices while he watches food being shipped overseas to poor countries even as local family farmers struggle to exist in the financial framework their own government allows. The farmer predicted a world where family farms, the backbone of our food supply, no longer exist and the food supply cannot recover.

In 1970, I didn't expect, really, that any of Rand's predictions would come true but they are - in these few and many more - in instances where we watch the government perpetuate itself rather than acting in the interests of a vital, alive future.

Frankly, hardly anyone likes Ayn Rand. My philosophy classmates once booed me for saying I did, and I still disagree with her in many ways. But in these ways, at least, she has told the truth. Come to think of it, that might be why she is so unpopular. The truth is, too.

Image: Thoughtco

The Danger of Indecision OR: What's for Dinner (AGAIN)?

 

A friend of mine once reflected that no one ever told her that getting married meant having to decide what's for dinner every night for the rest of her life. And she was right. It's true. It's just a fact of life. We have to eat and when we share life with someone, that's a decision someone has to make. Every day. 

But that's not the problem. It's not the decsion itself - whether to get Chinese takeout or throw some burgers on the grill - it's the incessant necessity of making decisions to the point of wanting to flee.

Sometimes decisions are unrelenting, pressing in from all sides, demanding attention in the guise of work or responsibility to friends or community obligations. Decisions are what can transform an ordinary Wednesday afternoon, any Wednesday afternoon, into a long tunnel that makes you feel like coiling into a little ball and rolling yourself under the nearest couch with the dust bunnies and hiding.

It would be such a relief to just put one foot in front of another awhile and nothing else, just to leave the determining of fate to someone else, to release into an effortless few days without the insistent pressure of the next move.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!

Nope. No can do.

And this is why:

The minute we lay down the responsibility of decision for our own life, we hand over the privilege to someone else and, unless that person is God, they are not up to the task. 

No one else knows what we want from life but us. No one else is capable of our conviction or purpose. No one else knows what we are or are not willing to sacrifice to achieve something. No one else understands who or what or how we love.

Oddly enough, it matters less which decisions we make than that we just make them. Almost all poor decisions can be redeemed in one way or another, but letting go of the reins we were meant to hold means that the horse is likely to run wild, out of control in the wrong direction.

One thing I know for sure is that, assuming the Matrix really is fiction, I live. I have been given a life and that life is a pure gift, meant to be LIVED. 

Life means something. It has a purpose and it is my joy and privilege to find mine. God gave me something very fine and I will, until it is taken away from me, show Him I love Him by directing and using my life rightly.

This is not done by accident. It is done by decision.

So decisions can be at their least, a pain, or at worst, dangerous, but bring 'em on. I won't get through unscathed, but that's all right. What I will do is use the life I'm given for the glory of Him who made it, bringing in the process satisfaction to us both. 

So, anyway, what IS for dinner tonight?

Images: Shutterstock, Adobe

Exquisite Pain: Yin and Yang

 

You've heard people say it. 

"God never gives us more than we can handle."

And you know that's not true. 

He gives us more than we can handle all the time.

Or it feels like it anyway.

The bills we can't pay. The illness that won't go away. Betrayal. Accident. Death. As beautiful as it sometimes is, life sometimes sucks, too. And we can't do anything about it.

I swear, the objection to faith in God I hear most often is wondering why He permits so much evil in the world - why children die in horrible wars, why planes crash with whole skating teams on them, why neighbors thinks it's necessary to shoot the guy next door. And I don't blame the people who do the wondering.

The Right Question

The problem is that they're asking the wrong question. 

The rotten things in life aren't separate from the wonderful ones. They are all part of one thing, and that thing is life.

Even Jesus said we would always have poverty. (Matt 26:11).  God causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good  (Matt 5:45). 

Get it? 

The right question is not why God allows evil and struggle. 

It's why we aren't taking a harder look and trying to understand the world that God actuallty made.  He didn't make a Disney world, with dragons and prince charmings duking it out to see who wins. He made a world where the horrible exists side by side with the wonderful.

The One

That's why our Asian friends use the yin/yang comparison. One life. One thing, With evil and good existing side by side in exquisite tension and in beautiful pain. 

We have one God and He made one life for us, one that includes both blooms and death, and we are to love Him and one another through it. 

It's actually quite a beautiful thing, when you think about it. Not treating trouble and pain as adverseries but as teachers that have their place. 

Something will eventally kill us all, after all. It will be good to understand that whatever does is part of the plan.

Image: Woo-Han, Substack

Love as the Consent Not to Reign

I've been reading Simone Weil.

If you've never heard of her, that's no big surprise. She's part philosopher, part mystic, and neither makes for a reputation anywhere near that of Stephen Colbert or Ozzie Osbourne. Simone has an interesting history. Jewish and living only until the age of 34 in prewar France, she began as a firm agnostic and gravitated slowly to Christian mysticism, remaining at the edge of organized religion, preferring a pragmatic rather than an emotional or more entirely spiritual approach to faith and wove ideas from Greek, Egyptian, and Hindu practice into her view of the eternal. It made for an interesting worldview.

But she has some important things to say. This is one of them:

God brings the universe into existence by agreeing not to command it even though He has the power to do so, but instead He allows the mechanical necessity of matter and the autonomy essential to thinking people to reign in His stead. His consent to do this is love. - Waiting for God

She sounds like a philosopher, but she applies her capacities of reason unapologetically to God. 

Unpacked, this makes for some deeply affecting resonance. 

First, it allows that God is responsible for creation, not only its physical components - earth and sky and the physics that govern them - but for humanity as well. However, it also sets apart his only thinking creation, humans, as separate entities altogether, given discrete privileges not granted the rest of creation. In an echo of the metaphorical Adam and Eve of the Bible, Simone applies both philosophy and theology simultaneously to what she observes to make sense of it. Physics, she says is what God made it and its mechanics run His universe without interruption or excuse, which is God's customary way of operation. God steps aside, however, when it comes to all matters of will. He has a will of His own, of course, but does not impose it and this, she says is how God loves us.

Then there's Simone's idea of our response to this:

God gives us our being so that we can give it back to Him. He allows us to live apart from Him and it's up to us to refuse the authorization. Humility is the refusal to exist apart from God - Gravity and Grace 

So there is a beautiful harmony in our intended relationship with God. God withholds the imposition of His will, deferring to our independence, and we withhold the exercise of that independence, deferring in turn to Him. 

That is communion. Perfect.

Image from The Drift

Staring at the Sun

 

I have a basket of flowers in my house. They are old and dry, many dusty from fragile years of saving. It's my basket of love, I tell anyone who asks its origin - roses and mums and others given in thanks or in consolation or congratulation or with any kind of empathy that seemed at the time like sweet fellowship. They retain some of their color, but aren't really a decoration. They are a reminder of love given and many times returned. A reminder of the parts of this life that were well-lived and tenderly remembered.

Yesterday, I found a poet who described why I've kept them.

Master, how serene
Are all the hours 
We waste

If, as we waste them,

We place them in a vase

Like flowers.

There are no sorrows

In our lives

Nor joys either.

Let us learn, then,

Innocent sages, 

Not to live life

But to pass through it,

Tranquil, serene,

Taking children

As our teachers,

Eyes full

Of nature...

Beside a river,

Beside a road,

Wherever we are,

Living life

With the same

Light ease.

Time passes,

And tells us nothing.

We grow old.

Let us learn almost

Mischievously,

To feel ourselves leaving.

There is no point

In doing anything.

There is no resisting

The monstrous god

Who devours

His own children.

Let us gather flowers.

Let us bathe our hands

In the calm rivers,

And from them

Learn their calm.

Sunflowers eternally

Staring at the sun,

We will leave life

Tranquilly, not even

Regretting

Having lived.

--Ricardo Reis

Image: Farmer's Almanac